Read Online Bright Eyes by Catherine Anderson - Free Book Online
Authors: Catherine Anderson
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concluded that he wasn’t high on Natalie Patterson’s popularity chart. “Is that so?”
“Yep. I want to know how come. It can’t be very fun.”
There was a thought. As Zeke shifted to get out of her way, he almost slopped beer on her curly head. He righted his mug just in time. “I, um—hmm.”
She nodded as if he’d just said something profound as she invaded his kitchen. “Nice,” she pronounced. “Pretty wood floors, and everything’s tidy.” She turned slowly, taking in the oak cabinetry with a critical eye. “You need some stuff on your walls, though.”
That was a sentiment shared by his mother and sister. He guessed it was a female thing. The only thing he’d tacked to a wall so far was a Les Schwab Tires calendar, and he liked it that way. “I just moved in.”
“You’ve been here almost four months. Poppy’s been counting. He says you must be stuck up, never coming over to say hello until you have a bitch.”
All Zeke could think of to say was, “I’ve been busy.”
She tapped her foot. “Even so, it’s important to make your space feel homey. My mommy says.”
“She’s probably right. I keep meaning to buy some wall hangings, but I never seem to find time.”
“You need some magnets for your ’frigerator, too. Maybe, then, it won’t look so naked in here.”
Magnets? His mother’s refrigerator was covered with them, and the thought made him shudder. “I don’t like clutter.”
“Some potholders, then,” she suggested. “When I find time, I’ll color you a picture, too. It’s always nice to have kid stuff hanging up. Mommy says it makes people feel at home.”
Potholders, he could handle. The kid stuff he could do without. She rested her tiny hands on her hips and turned to face him. “Gramps wants to come over here and show you how the cows can eat the cabbages.”
Zeke had heard that expression and couldn’t help but smile. “Uh-oh.”
She pressed forward, forcing him to retreat a step. Her dusty little feet sported bright pink toenails and red sandals with straps held together with duct tape. Hands still at her waist, she looked up at him, the glint in her eye reminiscent of the fire he’d seen in her mother’s. “We need to have a talk.”
Zeke never argued with a lady who had butterflies on her sundress. He glanced outside to make sure Miss Rosie had no entourage before he closed the door.
“What, exactly, do we need to talk about?” he asked.
“Well, first of all, it isn’t very nice to be noxious to your neighbors. Don’t you want us to like you? There’s nothing worse than having no friends.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
Dark curls afire in the fluorescent light, she tipped her head to study him. “You got any cabbages in your garden?”
“A few.”
“You don’t want our cows to eat them, do you?”
Zeke lost his heart right there on the spot. He’d never clapped eyes on a cuter child. Every time she spoke, a dimple flashed in her cheek. And she was so tiny. The top of her head barely grazed his thigh, and yet she stood with her shoulders erect, her chin jutted, ready to take him on.
“No,” he replied. “I’d rather your cows stayed at home.”
“Cows in the garden are a very bad thing. Daisy and Marigold can eat a lot. They got in Poppy’s onion patch last week and ate so many our milk tasted funny.”
Setting his beer aside, Zeke sat on one of the kitchen chairs and motioned for her to join him. She was a tad short, and sitting on a chair took a bit of doing, but she finally managed after a good deal of standing on her tiptoes and twisting. When she was properly perched, she covered her smudged knees with her faded skirt, patted her tousled curls, and said, “I hope you’ll excuse how I look. I haven’t had my bath yet. Until bedtime, Aunt Valerie says it’s an effort in futility.”
“You look fine to me,” Zeke assured her, and meant it.
She folded her hands and fixed him with an imploring gaze. Somehow
“Yep. I want to know how come. It can’t be very fun.”
There was a thought. As Zeke shifted to get out of her way, he almost slopped beer on her curly head. He righted his mug just in time. “I, um—hmm.”
She nodded as if he’d just said something profound as she invaded his kitchen. “Nice,” she pronounced. “Pretty wood floors, and everything’s tidy.” She turned slowly, taking in the oak cabinetry with a critical eye. “You need some stuff on your walls, though.”
That was a sentiment shared by his mother and sister. He guessed it was a female thing. The only thing he’d tacked to a wall so far was a Les Schwab Tires calendar, and he liked it that way. “I just moved in.”
“You’ve been here almost four months. Poppy’s been counting. He says you must be stuck up, never coming over to say hello until you have a bitch.”
All Zeke could think of to say was, “I’ve been busy.”
She tapped her foot. “Even so, it’s important to make your space feel homey. My mommy says.”
“She’s probably right. I keep meaning to buy some wall hangings, but I never seem to find time.”
“You need some magnets for your ’frigerator, too. Maybe, then, it won’t look so naked in here.”
Magnets? His mother’s refrigerator was covered with them, and the thought made him shudder. “I don’t like clutter.”
“Some potholders, then,” she suggested. “When I find time, I’ll color you a picture, too. It’s always nice to have kid stuff hanging up. Mommy says it makes people feel at home.”
Potholders, he could handle. The kid stuff he could do without. She rested her tiny hands on her hips and turned to face him. “Gramps wants to come over here and show you how the cows can eat the cabbages.”
Zeke had heard that expression and couldn’t help but smile. “Uh-oh.”
She pressed forward, forcing him to retreat a step. Her dusty little feet sported bright pink toenails and red sandals with straps held together with duct tape. Hands still at her waist, she looked up at him, the glint in her eye reminiscent of the fire he’d seen in her mother’s. “We need to have a talk.”
Zeke never argued with a lady who had butterflies on her sundress. He glanced outside to make sure Miss Rosie had no entourage before he closed the door.
“What, exactly, do we need to talk about?” he asked.
“Well, first of all, it isn’t very nice to be noxious to your neighbors. Don’t you want us to like you? There’s nothing worse than having no friends.”
“That’s true, I suppose.”
Dark curls afire in the fluorescent light, she tipped her head to study him. “You got any cabbages in your garden?”
“A few.”
“You don’t want our cows to eat them, do you?”
Zeke lost his heart right there on the spot. He’d never clapped eyes on a cuter child. Every time she spoke, a dimple flashed in her cheek. And she was so tiny. The top of her head barely grazed his thigh, and yet she stood with her shoulders erect, her chin jutted, ready to take him on.
“No,” he replied. “I’d rather your cows stayed at home.”
“Cows in the garden are a very bad thing. Daisy and Marigold can eat a lot. They got in Poppy’s onion patch last week and ate so many our milk tasted funny.”
Setting his beer aside, Zeke sat on one of the kitchen chairs and motioned for her to join him. She was a tad short, and sitting on a chair took a bit of doing, but she finally managed after a good deal of standing on her tiptoes and twisting. When she was properly perched, she covered her smudged knees with her faded skirt, patted her tousled curls, and said, “I hope you’ll excuse how I look. I haven’t had my bath yet. Until bedtime, Aunt Valerie says it’s an effort in futility.”
“You look fine to me,” Zeke assured her, and meant it.
She folded her hands and fixed him with an imploring gaze. Somehow
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